


Sixth Time Lucky

by a_quick_drink



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Reincarnation, Soulmates, Winnix plays matchmaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-09 19:49:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6920629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_quick_drink/pseuds/a_quick_drink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five lives and each one has taunted Ron with an incarnation of the man he'd come to know as Carwood Lipton, the only problem being they never meet at a time when love is an option. When their paths cross once more, Ron's determined not to let Carwood get away this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sixth Time Lucky

Reincarnation was bullshit, that much Ron had learned early on. Five lives and each one taunted him with an incarnation of the man he'd come to know as Carwood Lipton. He was tired of it. Life number six was proving no different as his eyes settled on the current version of the man a few tables away. Same hairstyle, same scar under his eye, same mouth Ron could only dream of kissing.

Unfortunately--and wasn't that always the case?--Ron couldn't do anything until Carwood's friends left, hopefully without him. Ron traced the rim of his glass with a fingertip. He could wait. What was another hour or two when he'd already waited several lifetimes? He wasn't losing Carwood this time.

As he watched, a hazy memory scratched at Ron's brain. Green as far as his mind's eye could see. Sunshine and mountains and a lake so calm its surface mirrored the blue sky. There was a redhead who looked much like the one opposite Carwood, with his arm draped over the back of the other guy's chair. The only difference being this version was more relaxed than the one in Ron's memory. The dark-haired guy was familiar too, although here he was nursing a tall glass of something clear and bubbly instead of whisky. Ron didn't imagine the two had been anything more than friends in their previous life, but the matching silver bands he noticed told a different story.

Ron hid a smile behind his glass before he took a sip. If those two had finally wound up together, maybe there was hope for him and Carwood to get it right in this cycle too.

Every incarnation of themselves always found their way to each other but somehow never at the right time. Their previous life serving together in the second world war was the closest they'd gotten and yet still miles away. Attitudes were different then, although it was less that keeping them apart than it was that they'd simply found each other too late. There was no room in Carwood's life for him to be anything more than a friend, so Ron had left it alone. They'd had their friendship, and then parted ways after the war, drifting out of touch as they built separate lives.

Staring at the Eagle's Nest logo on the soggy cardboard coaster, Ron wondered if Carwood ever thought about him or felt the same pull. Details of his previous lives were fuzzy at best but he always remembered Carwood. Memories worked differently for everyone, though. Some remembered every detail, big and small, of every life; others grasped at moments of deja vu. Considering Carwood never seemed to recognize him, Ron suspected he may be in the latter group.

This would be a challenge alright--one he was looking forward to.

* * *

"All I'm saying, Lip, is maybe you need to take a chance and try something a little different for once. Worked for us," Lewis said, gesturing between himself and Dick.

The corner of Dick's mouth ticked up. "And how many centuries did that take again?"

"Hey, I didn't see you doing anything about it. You think I asked you to come work with me just 'cause you were my best friend?"

"It was a different time, Lew."

Lewis waved him off and took a swig of his drink before leaning forward. "Tall, dark, and scary over there would be a perfect start," he said with a suggestive waggle of eyebrows that made Carwood choke on his drink.

When he'd spotted the guy walk into the bar, Carwood had almost swallowed his tongue. 'Scary' didn't strike him as the correct descriptor--broody, perhaps, or maybe just intense. It wasn't any one thing he could pinpoint, something about the way the guy carried himself and the rakish flop of bangs Carwood wanted to comb away with his fingers. Intriguing whatever the case may be, but the guy was so far out of Carwood's league that he wouldn't so much as entertain the idea of embarrassing himself by asking.

"Are you insane?" Carwood hissed.

"Jury's still out," Dick teased. Lewis shot him an annoyed look that quickly melted into content when Dick gave his neck an apologetic squeeze. "That's Ron Speirs by the way."

Carwood blinked. The name meant nothing to him.

"He seemed quite fond of you when you were in Easy together, so I don't imagine him being here is mere coincidence."

That was news to Carwood although what wasn't? He remembered nothing of his past lives, and it was only thanks to Dick and Lewis that he learned anything about at least one of those. He wished he could remember everything like they did.

He wished he could remember Ron.

Lewis suddenly rapped his knuckles on the table and hopped out of his chair, startling Carwood from his thoughts. "Would you look at the time." Chuckling, Dick followed his lead.

"But what about dinner?" Carwood asked.

"We'll take a raincheck," Lewis said, grabbing Dick by the arm.

"Talk to him," Dick mouthed at him as he let himself get pulled away.

Talk to him. Right. And just how was that supposed to go? _So you probably don't really know me either but my friends say you used to like me in past life, and what's up with that?_ And that was the best case scenario if he didn't get tongue-tied first. Oh yeah, talking to Speirs would go over real well. But he knew his well-meaning friends wouldn't lie to him. If they said he had a chance, what harm was there in trying? His stomach churned at the thought.

"Can I buy you another drink?"

Carwood's voice died in his throat as he turned in the direction of the voice and found Speirs smiling at him. Obscured by the shadows of where he'd been sitting, Speirs had looked intimidating and unfriendly; not the kind of person he'd ever want to meet in a dark alley. In the light, though, Carwood noticed a laser-sharp focus to Speirs' gaze, like he'd already tuned out the world so only they existed in this moment.

"I, uh...sure." The words sounded strangled to his ears but Speirs either didn't notice it didn't care, grinning at Carwood before he turned away to flag someone down for refills. _Oh God._ Carwood's stomach flip-flopped as he rubbed at his chest, willing the strange fluttering feeling away. _He was really doing this, wasn't he?_

* * *

It was exactly 7:35pm when Ron passed away. He remembered that because he'd been watching the clock on the nightstand tick down the time he had left with Carwood. It was also, peculiarly enough, the exact same time they'd met in that bar over fifty years ago. He'd been in this afterlife waiting room ever since with only a deck of cards he'd found on a table to keep himself company.

He dealt himself another game of solitaire. Wherever he was, it was no ordinary waiting room with outdated magazines and furniture well past its prime. It was sparsely furnished with leather chairs and tables set with sculptures and vases. Chandeliers glittered overhead. Footsteps click-clacked about the polished marble floors in a staccato that had started making his eye twitch. It all reminded him of a swanky hotel lounge, the kind of place they'd only ever been able to splurge on for their honeymoon.

Turning over another card, Ron paused and held it up: two of hearts. Him and Carwood. They'd had a good life together--a long, quiet one--better than anything he could've dreamed. He wanted to believe it was their reward for helping save the world the last go round, peace they'd earned from whoever was in charge of the cosmos. Or maybe it was just fate. Or luck. A one in a billion chance never to repeat itself. Pushing the thought aside, he returned the card to the deck.

Just how long was he supposed to be here anyway? He was already bored out of his skull and it felt like he'd only been here a few hours. And what was he doing here anyway? Where was 'here'? As far as he knew, reincarnation was an automatic process: birth, life, death. Lather, rinse, repeat. All he could do was go with it and curse his luck each time Carwood slipped through his fingers. Apparently that wasn't exactly how it worked. Was he being punished? Would he meet Carwood again? He slapped a card down, frustrated. There were too many questions and no answers.

"You could've played that one."

Ron's head snapped up to find Carwood smiling down at him in that easy, contented expression that always made his heart melt. Almost eighty when Ron last saw him, his former husband now didn't look a day past forty. "You're...here."

"Sorry I made you wait so long."

Ron leapt from his chair and tugged Carwood to his chest, burying his face in Carwood's neck. "It's only been a few hours," he murmured, ducking his head to slot their lips together. There was no way to tell how long he'd been here because there were no clocks, at least none that he'd been able to find. "Don't be sorry about it."

Carwood's arms slid around his neck. "It's been seven years but who's counting, right?"

Ron leaned away so he could see Carwood's face. "Seven?" he asked in disbelief, frowning at Carwood's solemn nod. "Well hell, I'm the one who should be apologizing." He'd felt awful abandoning Carwood, even more so knowing Carwood had to live every day of those years while for him the time apart was nothing more than a brief nuisance.

None of it seemed to bother Carwood, whose face lit with another lop-sided smile. "It's okay. You've got forever to make it up to me." He winked and laced their fingers together.

Ron gave Carwood's hand a squeeze, emotion welling in his throat. "Forever, huh?" He wouldn't let go, not this time. Not ever again if he could help it. "You sure about that?"

What happened next, well, that was anyone's guess because Ron was too busy gazing into Carwood's eyes as they stepped over an invisible threshold; there was no doorway behind them, no way of discerning where they'd come from. Ahead of them, the infinite possibilities of an eternity together.


End file.
